


a history of faultlessness

by whytho



Category: Twelfth Grade (or Whatever) (Web Series)
Genre: :), Multi, as usual, honestly this is also kinda just a character study, my children, plus this fandom is sooooooo small :(, this is my way of saying 'i love liv and also poly is great'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7614580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whytho/pseuds/whytho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They fit around each other in the small apartment, squeezing past each other in the hallway and the bathroom as they rush, but they are used to it. It’s easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a history of faultlessness

When she wakes up in the morning, Liv can hear the coffee machine whirring away. She stretches out her feet before the rest of her body, curling pointing her toes, then sits up. The floor is cold, as usual, but she has socks. Viola is not in bed. 

Viola is in the kitchen, bowl of cold cereal already fixed, and she has poured Liv a cup of coffee. Liv doesn’t need the coffee, not like Viola does- she’s still half asleep despite it- but she cups the warm mug in one hand and drums her fingers on Viola’s head with the other. The kitchen is small, as is the frying pan they cook eggs in, but she can make it work, even for three. 

Oren is up half an hour later, bleary and messy-haired, and Viola laughs at his bedhead from around the coffee mug. Liv considers pointing out her own impressive state of muss, but decides not to. She doesn't even need to- Oren, in his tired state, just gestures at the top of Viola's head, and she sticks her lip out at him. 

Oren smiles up at Liv when she hands him a plate of eggs, eyes somehow bright despite his sleepiness, and Liv smiles back. Viola shoves cereal in her mouth, staring the two of them down, but Liv knows she’ll scarf down some eggs on her way out the door.

The three of them eat in silence, perfectly positioned around their circular table, and then Viola’s got to head to work and Oren’s got a class and Liv has to go to the library. They fit around each other in the small apartment, squeezing past each other in the hallway and the bathroom as they rush, but they are used to it. It’s easy. 

The next morning, it’s Oren’s turn to make breakfast, so Liv is the one that eats cereal long before the other two are up. She makes the coffee; Oren oven-bakes breakfast corn dogs. They all fit around each other as they rush past eight o’clock, into their respective days. 

///

Liv has lunch with Sebastian twice a week: once with Viola, and once with just the two of them. They have a little cafe they go to, tucked into a corner of a street in the middle of their city, and Liv always orders a hot chocolate and hamburger. 

Sebastian always gets something ridiculous, with a long name or a French one. Sometimes it’ll have both and Liv cannot resist rolling her eyes, to which Sebastian will either steal her whipped cream or stretch out his mouth or insist on feeding her a bit when it arrives. Liv always pretends to be disgusted, but they both know it’s delicious. 

(Sometimes on Tuesdays, when she has lunch with Oren, they will go to that cafe and Liv will order one of Sebastian’s complicated French dishes, and they still taste delicious. If Sebastian ever found out Liv would die.) 

Now, Sebastian settles himself in their booth and picks up the menu, not even bothering to say hi, and Liv smiles at the sight of him. He doesn’t look up, just smiles back. Their waiter arrives, takes their orders; Sebastian launches into an epic retelling of his professor’s toupee falling off. Liv listens to him, and laughs when it is funny, and somehow that segways into a discussion on Sisyphus. 

“You know,” Sebastian starts, thoughtful, after their food has arrived, “I think I oughta steal you away from your apartment.” 

“Don’t you already have a boyfriend?” Liv jokes, dragging a fry through ketchup. Sebastian laughs. 

“No, no, not like that. Just,” he places his chin on one fist, thoughtful as he takes her pickle, “You guys’s relationship was weird even when it started. The whole roommates thing is just kind of a… an interesting situation.” 

Liv shrugs, pops the french fry in her mouth. “It fits, though. We fit.” 

Sebastian doesn’t argue, though he does force her to try his low-fat vegan frittata. It’s surprisingly good, for something that’s meant to have eggs in it but doesn’t. 

\\\\\

Shopping is both fun and difficult with Oren and Viola. They give Liv rides on the cart, arms protective around her as she stands on the edge of the bottom. They forget that they’re out of milk. Oren sneaks Oreo's in the cart when someone isn’t watching (“Our names are only one letter off! That means something!”), and Viola reads the gossip magazines in checkout. Liv likes it. Sometimes it is hard, being stared at as she flies down the aisle or scolds a grown man like he’s four, but Viola can talk her through breathing exercises and Oren can offer her Chips Ahoy. 

Despite that, though, their schedules oftentimes force them to do their shopping in the middle of the night, when they’re just another group of crazy college kids doing the midnight rounds. 

Walking home in the dark makes Liv feel giddy, even with plastic bags cutting into her hands and the cold night air biting through her windbreaker. Viola is on one side and Oren is on the other, and their shadows splay out across the pavement like an artsy photo. Above them, noises spill out from second story windows- voices and music and laughter, all of them blending together into a jumbled soundtrack to Liv's thoughts. Liv had thought, sometime before, that they lived in a city that maybe grabbed a couple hours of sleep from time to time. Despite this, silence was not its main priority. 

Their apartment is warm after the cold night air, light stretching from the living room to the kitchen to the hallway. The floor is still cold when Liv kicks of her shoes, but she has socks; her feet remain warm. 

Viola yawns, not quite catching it behind the back of her hand, and Oren gently takes her bags from her. He turns and raises his eyebrows at Liv, like, _you tired, too?_ but Liv shakes her head and walks into the kitchen. Oren follows. They put away groceries in silence, Viola collapsed on the living room couch, and Liv thinks that they should carry her to a bed. If they can’t manage that, as tired as they are, they could maybe just help her stagger to bed. Liv wants to do nothing but that, but there are groceries to put away. 

Oren catches her hand as she turns away from a cabinet, eyebrows tentative, and Liv smiles at him. He smiles back after a second, still hesitant, and Liv lets her smile spread. Oren drops her hand; they put away the groceries. When they return to the living room, Viola has already made her way to bed, and Oren’s laugh breathes out from his chest, warm and thick like the noise floating through the streets. 

///

Liv has a job at a bookstore. It’s not large and not small, well lit but not blindingly so, well populated but not crowded. 

Liv likes it. 

Viola visits her one afternoon, looking sun-drenched and smiling, and hovers in Non-Fiction til her shift's over. As she takes off her name tag in the back room, she can spot Viola behind the doorway, and hides a smile as she grabs her bag and fixes her hair. Viola grabs her hand before she’s even out of the staff room and pulls her to the door. 

Oren is loitering outside, hair a mess, wearing a pair of shades that make him look mysterious and not ridiculous. He lights up when he sees them, undrapes himself from the wall, and then Liv has two people pulling her down the sidewalk. They won’t tell her where they’re going, not as they walk blocks deep into unfamiliar streets, and then they both have a hand over each eye. 

Liv can smell the sea. It’s no surprise when they lift their hands to reveal the boardwalk, but Liv smiles at them anyway. 

Oren pushes them to ride the roller coasters- Liv is both terrified and elated on them, hair streaming out behind her in the wind, screams forcing themselves out of her lips and then dying once they hit the air. They are all three to a cart, Viola in the middle, and she clings to the both of them when they drop down, every time.

Viola insists they get cotton candy, in pink and blue and purple, so they sit on a bench and pick at it as they watch the rides whirl and spin, all bright lights and flashing colors. Oren steals most of her blue, but Liv likes purple anyway. Viola tells them a story about a state fair she went to when she was little, and Liv laughs so hard she almost drops the cotton candy, but Oren and Viola and the guy behind the stand are laughing too. 

Liv wants them to ride the Ferris wheel, and they do, at the very end, after they have seen all the prize-winning pigs and carnival games there is to see. Liv wins Viola and Oren a stuffed walrus that they name Penguin, and they bicker jokingly over custody rights in the line of the ferris wheel. 

In the sky, with the beach line and the city spread out before them, Oren and Viola are quiet. Their knees all knock together as the crane their heads to look out the windows. Oren’s eyes are bright and gleeful, the city reflected in them, and Viola has entire oceans rising up beneath her irises. Liv can’t stop herself from smiling, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. Neither Viola or Oren notice, but- but. But Liv is happy, and she will be for a long time after this, and they fit. The three of them fit, and it works, in a way Liv wouldn’t have expected. 

\\\\\

Finals week is difficult- Liv knows this, and she hasn’t even started college. 

It’s clear, though, how much Oren and Viola are struggling. Most of their nights are spent huddled on the couch, hunched over notes and flashcards, in dim, dark light that forces them to scrunch their eyebrows tight together. Both have them have bags under their eyes, and it takes everything in Liv to not stuff the two of them with tea and drag them off to bed.

When Oren falls asleep on his textbook, Liv breaks. Viola is dazed when Liv kneels down next to her and, in one swift motion, snaps her textbook shut. At the noise, Oren jerks up, blinking, and Liv tells them both, “You are going to sleep now. Don’t even try to argue.” 

Viola opens her mouth, confused, but Liv drapes a blanket over her and tucks the edges in. Viola closes her mouth. Oren doesn’t say anything at all, still half-asleep, just leans back against the couch with a heavy sigh. Liv covers him with a blanket, too, marveling at how easily Viola and him cuddle up together, no arguments, and stands back to watch them two of them. They have visible bags under their eyes, the low lamplight throwing heavy shadows across their eyes, but their foreheads are already smooth. Liv would swear they’re both already snoring. 

She takes a look at the clock- 1:28, far later than she’s used to- and bites her lip. Her bed is too far away, she decides; it’s easier to just sit down next to Viola and lean against her. Liv does. Viola turns her head to press her cheek against Liv’s head, the skin smooth and warm, slow breath moving her hair, and Liv slips into unconsciousness as Oren’s arm reaches around to grip her shoulder. 

She wakes up to the smell of coffee seeping out of the kitchen. Viola is tucked next to her, warm and sweet and muscular, and Liv lets herself lie there for a minute, breathing in the smell of coffee and Viola. Oren’s voice is strong in the kitchen, singing a song Liv is sure she’s heard before, and Viola is carefully shifting beneath her. 

“Had a good night?” she asks, grinning in the sharp, clever way that first made Liv like her, and Liv is sure she’s insinuating something. 

Liv’s smile isn’t as sharp. “I had an excellent night,” she tells Viola, “excluding for the fact that you kept me up til morning.” 

“Ooh,” Viola teases, wiggling her eyebrows lecherously. She slips out from their entanglement and goes to join Oren in the kitchen. Liv can hear them murmuring together, can picture it: him tilting his head down, her placing her hands gently on his shoulder or back. Then Liv stands, just as Viola had done, to join them in the kitchen. 

Later, she meets Seb for lunch, and he teases her, “Ooh, you look tired. Late night?” much like his sister did. 

Liv thinks back to Oren and Viola in the middle of the night, moonlight on their cheekbones and oceans in their eyes, and replies, “Nothing I can’t deal with.”

**Author's Note:**

> this webseries is literally so cute like... honestly. 
> 
> (but also why is shakespeare everywhere people need to calm down and read some marlowe) 
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://whythowastakenwhatisthis.tumblr.com/)


End file.
